Knife Like Lust
by inuyasha1sasuke
Summary: As a single bead of crimson splashed cold onto the tiled floor, he told himself, "I can't do this," as he watched the scarlet wetness trickle down his arm and continue to silently drip off. He sighed in defeat. How could he be such a coward?


**A/N: Well, I've been in a rather angsty mood for the past week, reading suicidal, Ed-centric fics & all, so I decided to write one myself. This is going to be multi-chaptered and I **_**promise **_**you that I'll continue this one, and won't abandon it like I did BBI~**

**Anyways, with that out of the way, let's get to the warnings, shall we? Oh joy...**

**Warning/s: Self-mutilation, attempted suicide, angst~**

**Wow, that was a lot, wasn't it? Anyways, if you're triggered by such things, then I suggest you to leave~ Read at your own risk and don't say that I didn't warn you, ^^~**

**Knife Like Lust**

**Chapter 1:**

**Too Far Gone~**

As a single bead of crimson splashed cold onto the tiled floor, he told himself, "I can't do this," as he watched the scarlet wetness trickle down his arm and continue to silently drip off. He sighed in defeat. How could he be such a coward?

_Why didn't you just end it? You wouldn't have to put up with any of this anymore, _his inner self chastised him. He _knew _that. But he just couldn't. Was he..._scared?_ Scared of what might happen to him? He _did _wonder that, he admitted. But "scared" wasn't exactly the word that described his feelings at the moment.

He wiped off the tiny razor blade in his hand with his already blood-soaked shirt as he laid it down onto the sink in front of him. He looked up, and into the mirror ahead. What he saw wasn't exactly what he needed at the moment. Dead, golden eyes stared back into his own. Was that really what he looked like?

His skin shone pale into the light of the bathroom, and dark circles were starting to form under his eyes from a lack of sleep. His blood-stained shirt didn't improve his appearance any as he looked down at his left arm. There were several gashes and deep cuts that blossomed over it, some still fresh and oozing with blood.

He did this to himself.

What was wrong with him?

Ever since his little brother left to head East, to Xing, it was like his one and only little brother didn't need him anymore. His _world _didn't want him. He knew that Al was all grown up and could take care of himself now, but he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't needed anymore. It was hard to get used to after years and years of being depended upon. Now that he got his brother out of that shell that held his soul and saved Amestris, what was he to do after that? Al was all he _lived _for, and he just left him. He just didn't know what to do anymore. What _was_ he to do?

He didn't quit the military. He couldn't. After all, he wouldn't know what else to do if he did. Just stay at his apartment all day setting on his ass reading alchemy books? Fuck no! He couldn't stand lying around all day, he had to be up and doing something to keep him occupied, or just do something to help him _forget, _so what else than the military? It was all he was really good at anyway; being a state alchemist, the military's lapdog. The missions weren't that bad, after all. And is wasn't so bad being under that bastard colonel's command (it's general now) as it was back then. After all, he wasn't being forced, or he didn't _have _to like the old days. He did it simply because there was nothing else to do. So why the hell not?

So he spent the past year without Alphonse, and day by day he began to fall further and further, but he wasn't the only one noticing it. And he wasn't the only one feeling the affects. Several others have watched him this past year and noticed the downfall of the Hero of the People-The Fullmetal Alchemist, but they couldn't do anything. Not even Colonel Mustang, the Flame Alchemist could get his subordinate back on his feet again and living a healthy life. Though nobody mentioned or said anything to Edward. If it was because they were afraid, he didn't know. But he was glad. Nobody would be able to help him, anyway.

He was too far gone.

He cleaned up the remainder of the blood off the floor and the sink. Now all he had to do was clean _himself._ The blood was still slightly pouring out of a few fresh cuts that he inflicted upon himself, so he brought his arm up to his mouth and slowly lapped at the blood, causing his wounds to sting at the sudden contact. He could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, mixing in with his saliva, along with a weird feeling in his gut. He hadn't known what had came over him, but at the moment, he didn't care as he continued to lave his tongue over his blood-soaked wounds, basking in the taste.

He couldn't remember when he had first gotten like this, maybe a few months after Alphonse had left for Xing. At that time, he knew he was getting worse, especially when he felt the need to _cut himself. _And that first cut led to another. And then another, until he was doing it daily. It helped him cope with his pain, the physical pain overcame the mental pain, or so he thought.

He silently wondered what Alphonse would think of him; of what he had become. He knew he'd be ashamed, but it was all _his _fault in the first place. He had no right to judge.

He left him.

He left him here to suffer all alone, while Al was living a perfect life with Winry. He almost resented him, but he could never truly bring himself to despise his one and only little brother. His only family. His _life. _But his life left him, so what did he have now?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing as he walked out of the bathroom, not bothering to bandage and clean his wounds properly. He didn't really care, after all. He's the one who did it to himself.

~X~

It was late afternoon when Edward heard a few knocks that echoed throughout his apartment and into his living room. Making his way through one of the halls, to the door, the knocking continued until he guessed that the person outside heard his uneven footsteps trailing towards the door and didn't deem it necessary to knock anymore.

He peered through the peep-hole in his door, and saw a familiar face, looking rather annoyed and oblivious that he was being stared at.

_And just what the hell is _he _doing here...?_ he thought to himself bitterly as he opened his door to reveal a black-haired man with dark eyes staring back at him quite irritably.

"Fullmetal," he began, "I tried calling your apartment from Central Command _six times_, but I received no answer. You had absolutely no reason to miss a day of work today, and if you somehow happened to be sick or an emergency came up, you could've contacted Headquarters. Mind explaining?"

Dark eyes met golden as the younger alchemist scoffed. "I've been busy. Though I'm not expecting a slacker like yourself to understand that. Leave me alone."

And with that, he began to shut the door in Mustang's face, but he grabbed the blonde's wrist before he could do so.

"Now wait just a damn second! As your commanding officer, I order you to-" Mustang stopped abruptly, feeling something warm and wet on his hand as he held his subordinate's wrist tightly in order to stop him from closing the door.

Mustang took his hand away, examining it as he saw fresh crimson splayed about his palm. "What the hell...?" he whispered, mainly to himself. "Fullmetal, you're ble-"

Edward took his opportunity at shutting his door once more, this time succeeding. He quickly snapped the lock in place as he heard Mustang's yells outside.

"Damnit Edward! _Open this door-"_ the muffled shouts continued as Edward pulled the curtains closed, turned on his heel, and left Mustang screaming furiously outside his locked door. Serves the bastard right for trying to butt-in on _his _business. _His _private-life.

He had no idea what he was going through, and Edward was going to make sure that he _never _knew, no matter what happened. What had transpired just a few moments ago was just a slip up and he had been caught off-guard, so next time he'd better take extra steps, even in his own home.

~X~

About 10 minutes later of struggling to get in the Elric's apartment, he gave up, pondering over what in the world was going on with his subordinate. He noticed several people had come outside to see what all the ruckus was about, but he didn't give a damn. All he cared about was cracking what was wrong with Edward.

_Just where the hell did that blood come from, anyway?_ he asked himself as he looked down at his palm at the dried blood that he had never bothered to get off. _Edward's_ blood.

He pondered about the issue a moment, walking down the stairs and making his way towards the street to head his normal route back home, which so happened to bypass Ed's apartment complex, until it struck him. It should of been obvious; plain as _day._

Everyone began noticing Edward's downfall in the military after Alphonse left, and day by day everyone began seeing that he was falling farther and farther into himself. He skipped work half of the time, and it was a wonder if the boy hadn't been fired or demoted yet. Not only because of his absences at work, but how he _does _his work. And that was the problem. He _didn't._

The days that Edward _did _come into work, he marched right into Mustang's office and just splayed himself out on his little black couch, and would fall to sleep soundly, not waking up until several hours later, until lunch time. Afterward, he signed a few documents that required his signatures, and just hung out in the library all day, explaining that he had to do "alchemical research" which was partly true. He then made his way back to Mustang's office, asking if there was anything that he needed him to do out of sheer boredom.

And what Mustang had noticed the most, was that Edward didn't argue with him anymore. He didn't know if the boy had finally grown out of that, or if something was wrong, so he just chose the latter, and didn't give it any second thought.

Until now.

_Now, _when Edward was the worst. What Edward was doing, why that blood was there, should've been obvious to him. Edward was _cutting _himself. It was ironic that The Hero of the People could stoop so low, and Mustang pitied him; felt sorry for that horrible state that he was in.

And it was _all_ over his brother.

Mustang knew that Edward loved his brother dearly, gave an _arm and a leg_ for him, but he hadn't expected him to beat himself up over him just being away for a couple of months. He was safe, after all, so what was he worrying about? He had a feeling that he'd never know, unless he actually _talked _to him about it. But easier said than done.

Could it be that he feared being alone? He _has _spent practically every day of his life with him, and Al's all the family that he has left. So that could be a possibility?

There were _several _possibilities actually, Mustang pondered. After Edward, he, and everyone else had defeated all of the homunculi and Father; after Edward had gotten his little brother's body back; after Edward gave all of his friends and family calls that they succeeded and laughed and wept through the phone, what else did he have to do? Maybe he thought that his life's purpose was over...

And maybe it was...

Mustang was starting to understand now, why Edward was like this. In a way, it was kind of a stupid reason, but still, it was one that couldn't be helped. His little brother left him to travel the world, while Edward was stuck in the military without jack-shit to do; rather _boring _to say the least. But why did Alphonse leave him? That's something that Roy had never figured out, and he's been dwelling on it since the day it happened; since that horrid day that he saw Alphonse hop that train and leave without a moments hesitation, leaving Fullmetal behind, all alone...There had to be a reason for that. But he just couldn't figure it out.

He needed to talk to Edward about all this, because after all, he'll only get worse if he doesn't step in and intervene.

Should he go _now?_

That probably wasn't a good idea, considering the fact that his subordinate was already pissed at him as it was, but he didn't really do anything "wrong" through his preferences. To Fullmetal, _everything _he does is wrong, so why should Edward be angry with him? He only stopped by to see if the teen was alright, but it wasn't like him skipping work was anything new, but still...What could Edward possibly be doing at his home all day long all of those days that he's skipped if he had nothing to do? Things just didn't make any sense, especially around _this _area of things. _Nothing _about Fullmetal hardly even made sense anymore, and Mustang wanted desperately to change that. For Fullmetal's sake.

So he turned on his heel and marched straight back to Edward's apartment complex, desperately hoping that Edward would at least let him in this time. But then again, Mustang always had his alchemy...

Why didn't he think of that the first time? Huh...

~X~

The time Mustang reached Edward's doorstep, he froze as a sudden thought plagued his mind; there was no _way _Fullmetal would let him in his apartment, let alone _talk _to him. Sure, they didn't really argue anymore, but that didn't mean that Edward didn't hate him, and he was pretty sure that he _did_, for reasons unknown to him. (A/N. _Seriously, _Mustang? xD).

So he stood there pondering for a moment before a rather dirty trick crossed his mind; _I could always _sneak _in and see what he's up to...He couldn't deny anything then..._

And at that time, a smirk formed on his features as he clapped his hands, and several flashes of blue alchemical lights lit the dusk...

**A/N: Well, that concludes that chapter~ So, what do you think of my first angst fic? I highly encourage you to drop off a review, especially if you liked it, because if I don't receive enough, then I'm definitely not continuing this, because a lack of reviews signifies no readers, and without readers what's the point? Exactly. OR just give me an alert to know that you're alive and reading. That's all I ask for, :D**

**Anyways, Mustang can do alchemy without a transmutation circle now~ This fic takes place after the manga. Go figure.**

**Also, if you want to know the average time when I update, it might be about 3 weeks to a month. Possibly shorter if I'm in a rather angsty mood. And when I'm in an angsty mood I tend to write to get my feelings out. I've been listening to Hollywood Undead and Stone Sour for weeks on end now, so that might boost my angst levels. We can only hope now, can't we? ^^~**


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